Day 2 of our Adventure

I woke up staring at a bright little star twinkling through the overhead bunk window. Not a satellite — this one actually twinkled. The things you miss living in a house.

We started the morning with someone pecking on the truck door to wake us up. Too late — we were already dressed with our first cup of coffee in hand.

Jim and Leann Allen live in Tucumcari. We’ve known them for over twenty years. Van showed Leann a light on the dash and asked if she knew what it meant. She used to drive with her husband Jim, so she’s practically a walking truck manual.

She squinted at it and said, “Looks like a camera. Why would they put a camera on your truck?”

I said, “For when thieves shove the security lights toward the sky to steal all your tires.” Yes — that actually happened to us in Denver. We backed up to our trailer, hooked on, got ready to pull out, Van went to kick the tires… and there were no tires. All the security cameras were pointed straight up like they were watching for UFOs.

Somewhere along the way, I’ve become one of those old ladies who tells her husband what he can and can’t eat. Van looks at the menu and says, “Okay… what can I have?” If he phrased it like, “What should I eat?” I wouldn’t get the “Oh, you’re one of THOSE controlling wives” look. So I ordered for him. Hey — he doesn’t hurt now.

We had two extra hours after our friends went to work, so we walked to K‑Mart. Van bought a notebook for all the paperwork we have to fill out. I bought licorice. I can’t go long without it. They say it’s good for your stomach, and we all know whatever “they” say is gospel.

Driving through Albuquerque, we were mesmerized by the stone artwork along the highway — six‑foot geckos, roadrunners, blackbirds, rabbits, turkeys. Not wild turkeys, either. These were pilgrim turkeys a child had colored with bright crayons. Every bridge was painted — turquoise, pottery pink, pearl white. Not a speck of boring grey anywhere. Miles and miles of it. We couldn’t believe the money they spent.

Then came the Albertsons saga.

We had to go to four different Albertsons stores. No big deal… until we discovered one of them was on a road where trucks weren’t allowed. We missed our turn and ended up sitting at a red light ON the forbidden road.

Our choices were: Left — forbidden. Right — forbidden. Or a U‑turn with a 53‑foot trailer that’s 13 feet tall.

Yeah right.

But Van did it. A perfect U‑turn like he was driving a Honda Civic. I, on the other hand, would’ve turned left and said, “Kiss my 53‑foot trailer!”

For supper, I decided we’d better eat the bierox I made at home.

We’d been told, “Use any electrical appliance you want — you have an APU. The engine won’t idle more than five minutes, but the APU will keep everything running.”

So I turned on the APU, plugged in the microwave, put in two little bierox, hit start… and everything shut off. The APU sputtered and died. Tried again. Sputtered and died. Again. Dead.

Van called dispatch. They said, “Reset it.” He did. Still dead. And by then, dispatch had gone home.

So there we sat with cold bierox and a useless APU.

Van said, “Well… I can start the engine. Will it take longer than five minutes?”

I started laughing because I could already see it — us restarting the truck every five minutes just to cook dinner.

And that’s exactly what we did.